


wash away

by wormguts



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), DCU
Genre: Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Graphic Description, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Rape, massive trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormguts/pseuds/wormguts
Summary: Dad likes it when he cries.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Willis Todd
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	wash away

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE heed warnings. 
> 
> If you're still here let's go to therapy together <3
> 
> Anyway, I saw a prompt on tumblr about something or other like this so I thought I'd give it a go since I need to get back into writing more. Obviously this is horrible and I'm a terrible human being.

Jason was seven the first time he prayed to god.

Now, at eleven, Jason knows better. God doesn’t care. He prayed every morning and every night. He paid his dues, but the big man never came through on his side of the deal.

See, it’s been four years and Dad’s still alive.

The pain is enough to make him sick. Bile stings his throat. He can taste it every time he swallows. He wants to turn and retch over the side of the bed and cry until he can’t cry anymore.

But Dad likes it when he cries, so Jason lies still.

“You’re quiet today. What, cat got your tongue?” A hand presses his shoulder into the bare mattress, the rough material chafing his bruised skin. The other drags a miserable sound from his throat. “You even came to me yourself. Hah, seems you really wanted it today.” He crooks his fingers and drinks in the way Jason’s body spasms. “Say it.”

Jason stares at the ceiling, tasting his father on his tongue. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t vomit. He slowly closes his eyes, lets the pain quiet his mind, and says, “I wanted it.”

Dad groans, low. “Go on.”

So Jason does. _I wanted you to touch me. I wanted it all day while you were at work. It feels good. I love you._

The words are empty, soulless, but Jason’s gotten good at acting. Maybe Dad knows, maybe he pretends because that’s what gets him off. Or maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe Jason’s body is enough. He never much cared for the rest of him.

Fingers stroke inside of him and Jason hates the way he can’t control his body’s reaction. Dad must notice it’s taking less to get him hard because a wicked grin spreads across his face.

“What’s this? Look at you.” He grabs Jason’s hip, keeping him from bucking as he inserts another finger alongside the other two. Jason hisses through gritted teeth. He should be glad he’s doing at least this much to prepare him, but he can’t—he can’t bring himself to.

“You know, you used to struggle so much in the beginning,” Dad says, his grip on Jason unyielding. His fingers stab through Jason with fresh pain, searching. “You don’t talk much anymore. Why?”

_ Because I hate you _ , Jason thinks defiantly in the secrecy of his mind. He used to say that and worse in the beginning. But he’s learned to take it better now. Dad likes it when he fights back.

Dad leans over him, looking closely at Jason’s face. Jason can smell booze on his breath. He wants to turn his face away, close his eyes, rip Dad’s eyes out, but he’s afraid.

Dad coos at him. “If you wanted to kiss, Jason, all you had to do was ask.”

Jason’s stomach lurches.

“Dad—” he starts, then backtracks quickly, his mind racing. He has to—

“What was that?” Dad snaps, looking two seconds from smashing Jason’s head against the side table. Again.

“I—I want you inside me.”

He’s horrified by his mouth’s betrayal. He feels tears prickling the edges of his vision, but it isn’t enough to drown out the look on his father’s face. The bile rises. Jason swallows it.

“I’ll use your other hole first,” Dad murmurs. He yanks Jason’s head back by the hair. “I make the rules. Got it?”

Jason nods as best he can. This seems to satisfy Dad. He releases his grip on Jason, withdrawing his fingers so fast they leave an awful feeling behind. He leans over Jason’s face, kisses his forehead, and begins groping himself. Jason doesn’t want to look at his father as he pushes his pants and underwear down, but he can’t move his eyes away, can’t even breathe. Of course, he notices Jason watching. He makes a show of stroking himself, grinning lewdly.

“Look closely,” he orders. He pulls his foreskin down, showing Jason the bead of precome there. He swipes it with a finger and brings it to Jason’s lips. Jason obediently sucks the digit into his mouth, ignoring how the taste makes him want to gag. Dad would beat him if he spat it out. He’s done it before.

“Now, Jason, let me show you how a man does it,” Dad singsongs. It makes Jason’s heartbeat race. Panic bubbles in his throat as he watches his father jerk himself roughly, eyes roaming Jason’s naked body. He knows if he looks away, Dad will spank him or hit him on the head. Jason has too many bruises as it is, so he can’t risk it. He watches and tries to calm his breathing.

“Kid,” Dad says suddenly, sounding out of breath. “Open your mouth.”

The tears don’t come. They used to, but it’s been a long while since then, and his eyes have dried up. They’re shriveled up like grapes.

Dad pulls him down the bed by the waist, lining himself up with Jason’s waiting mouth. His smile turns cruel. 

“You’ll cry for me,” he whispers, stroking Jason’s cheek. “You know how much I like it.” With those words, he pushes his member inside with one thrust. Jason gags, but Dad doesn’t notice. He groans at his son’s throat contracting around his dick. 

The bile rises in Jason’s throat, but there’s nowhere for it to go. The panic reaches deep within him, poking its claws through his ribs and to the outside, piercing his flesh. He knows better than to fight back. It’s been drilled into his head since he was four years old, but still. He’d hate to die naked, his father’s dick in his mouth.

The pain is familiar. He can deal with it. He shrugs it on like an old coat, wraps it around his cuts and bruises just like Mom taught him. He’s good at it.

He’s never been good at much.

It’s worse, somehow, that Mom knows. 

He doesn’t know when she found out or if she knew all along. He always suspected she had an idea, but it isn’t until the fall of fifth grade that his fears are confirmed.

Dad’s inside of Jason when she walks in. 

She doesn’t say anything. She watches Dad fuck him and doesn’t say a word. Dad doesn’t even pause to acknowledge her. 

It’s then that Jason feels the last bit of hope he’d been clinging to for years abandon him, leaving a gaping, bleeding wound behind. The tears don’t stop. It’s like a floodgate has opened and Jason can’t stop. Sobs wrack his body as his mother stands in the doorway, watching her husband rape her son. 

Jason doesn't bother praying again.

**Author's Note:**

> If this is your first time here, I write other Jason Todd stuff. Check it out.


End file.
